Venara
by Orime
Summary: Venara is a Blood Elf socialite. Learning to cope with the symptoms of her magic addiction after the destruction of the Sunwell leads her down a dark path. Contains graphic violence and graphic sex.
1. Chapter 1

Venara smiled as she heard a voice call to her from outside. She took one last glance in the mirror to make sure everything was as it should be, and she was pleased with what she saw. Her glossy red hair was arranged in loose curls that tumbled over her shoulders. Her new green eyes were framed with carefully applied black liner and just a hint of gold around the outer edges. Her lips were painted full and red, and her figure-hugging dress combined warm brown tones with patterned accents of red and gold that were echoed throughout the jewellery she wore.

Since the latest of many acts of aggression against her people, red had rapidly come into fashion as a sign of respect for the fallen. It had always been a colour that set Venara's heart racing, so this suited her well. Sin'dorei they now called themselves, or Blood Elves to those of less sophisticated tongues. A race that remained beautiful, proud and strong despite how much they had had to bleed to get to where they were today. It was a romantic tale, and one she was proud to have survived.

She made her way to the door of her regrettably modest apartment, and her face lit up as she opened it to greet her visitor. Tyranthis stood there, eyes running over her appreciatively with that gleam that always made her breath quicken. The hours she had spent on her appearance that morning were all for him. Were always for him.

Not that the exchange of effort was one sided by any means. He himself was as flawless as ever. His long black hair was pulled off his angular face in a half ponytail that shone in the midday sun. His tunic and pants clung to him in a way that proudly displayed his athletic frame, and his rings and pendant matched his already decorative outfit in a way that managed not to overwhelm the senses. He really did have an eye for beauty, which made her feel all the more grateful that she had been able to catch his eye at all.

"You look absolutely perfect today," Tyranthis announced proudly. Her stomach fluttered in delight. "I was going to suggest a walk to our bench on this fine day, but perhaps I might step inside for a moment first?"

He quirked an eyebrow, and Venara tried not to let her giddiness show as she stepped back and allowed him through the door. She gently closed it behind him, oh so agonisingly slowly, and then the moment it clicked shut he was upon her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she was spun round and pushed up against the door, and her lover began kissing her neck and running his hands along her body. Her eyes closed as she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly grazing his scalp with her fingertips in the way that she knew he loved.

"Lift your dress," he commanded while nibbling her earlobe, and she gladly obeyed, gathering the material of the skirt in her hands and pulling it up to sit around her waist.

"And the rest."

She pulled at her underwear and allowed it to drop to the floor, carefully stepping out of it and nudging it to one side with her boot. She then began tugging at his pants, and his hands slid over hers to help her accomplish her task. His lips found hers then, and he lifted one of her legs, pushing her knee up against her torso. And then at last he was inside her, his soft grunts evidence of how much he needed to be.

She did her best to angle her hips towards him despite her awkward position, enabling him to maintain an easy, steady rhythm. He pulled his face back from hers then to take in the sight of her splayed against the door before him, and his eyes shone with satisfaction.

"Now!" he gasped, and pulled out of her as she dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, employing every trick she knew to make the finish a spectacular one for him. It didn't take long.

He grabbed the back of her head and held her close against him as he climaxed, his breath stopping for a moment until it came shuddering out in a gasp. She braced herself and swallowed everything as best she could, continuing to pleasure him until he signalled that he was done.

"Okay," he patted her head softly, trying to catch his breath, "okay."

She licked her lips and swallowed once more, happy to have pleased him. Grabbing her underwear from the floor she rose to her feet, and began to put her appearance back together again so she could join him on his proposed walk. Once they were both ready to be seen in public, she took his arm and allowed him to lead her through the centre of what was left of the once great city.


	2. Chapter 2

Silvermoon City had once been a radiant jewel crowning the north of the Quel'dorei or High Elven Kingdom of Quel'Thalas. But in recent years, an undead army had carved a path right through the centre of the city in order to reach and corrupt the magical Sunwell, a font which had been a source of power and inspiration for her people for millennia. Near 90% of the whole Quel'dorei population had been killed in the invasion, leaving the ancient Kingdom all but ruined. And if that was not enough, the undead Scourge's destruction of the Sunwell had left the remaining elves with crippling withdrawal symptoms, as over the centuries her people had become heavily dependent on its arcane energies.

A brief flirtation with the human led Alliance saw the Quel'dorei betrayed (a recurring theme in her people's history), and had almost got their ruling Prince killed. But now Prince Kael'thas had established himself on a new world with new 'allies', and had sent his people desperately needed solutions for their magic addiction, as well as the hope that he was securing them a bright new future where they would soon be beholden to no one.

As Venara walked at Tyranthis' side, she could see some of their Prince's gifts scattered throughout the city; huge floating green crystals containing highly concentrated magic that had been stolen from the very demons who had orchestrated their great city's fall. Comfortable cushions and throws were sprawled around many of the crystals, where people could relax, converse, and occasionally draw some of the energy out to momentarily soothe their hunger with.

But Venara preferred not to rely on such things herself. The crystals were watched by the many patrolling arcane guardians, and people were strongly 'encouraged' to only partake sparingly, so as to share fairly and to limit the risk of anyone gorging themselves into irreversible corruption. The concentrated fel magic was delicious and easy to access, but it was dangerous to play with. Many Sin'dorei had already hurtled past their limits and now wandered the ruined western half of the old city as shells of their former selves. No longer capable of reasoned thought, their only remaining drive was to seek out and drain any source of magical energy they could get their shrivelled hands on. Disgusting creatures.

Together Tyranthis and Venara had been running their own experiments, and had found that it was possible to extract energy from various kinds of living things. The mana wyrms floating lazily around the city had been one of their first discoveries. As they were largely beings of arcane energy, they had been quite satisfying to feast on. And their numbers were plentiful, so it was unlikely that the pair would be able to make any meaningful dent in the local population with their indulgences alone.

Next they had tried small non-magical creatures; insects, fish, small mammals. The life energy of the creatures proved to be nourishing in its own way, although it did little to scratch their particular arcane itch. One day when Tyranthis had been feeling particularly bold, they had cornered a lone wretched in the abandoned half of the city and were successfully able to combine their arcane abilities to incapacitate the thing and then drain it dry. Still trembling and high on the sense of accomplishment and the creature's fel energies, they had made love right there in the crumbling remains of an old building. As invigorating as the experience had been, they had agreed that the creature had retained too much of the crystals' corruptive energies, and so didn't provide a suitable alternative.

Leaving through the gates of the city and nodding amicably at the guards they passed, the pair followed the towering walls until they reached their secluded bench. It sat beside a small, clear lake that contained colourful little fish, and various flowers blossomed around the area. It was a beautiful spot, but as most people were happy to sit absorbing energy from crystals inside the safety of the city walls, few came out this way. It was a spot that had become special to them; a place where they could relax and simply enjoy each other's company.


	3. Chapter 3

Tyranthis brushed some leaves off of the marble, and held out his hand. She took it gently, and allowed him to guide her down to her seat. Then he settled himself beside her, close enough that their thighs touched. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he put an arm around her and pulled her as close as it was possible to be. It felt so natural, and so comfortable, like they were one person housed in two vessels that were always straining to be near.

They sat in silence for a time, simply breathing in the cool autumnal air and watching the fish meander and dart through the water before them.

"What are you thinking about?" Tyranthis asked, placing a hand over hers and squeezing softly.

What _had_ she been thinking about? "Just daydreaming happily by your side, my love. I think I was remembering our various experiments, how far we have come together."

He snorted happily. "We are the true survivors, you and I. We will make our own way forward on our own terms, no matter the circumstances."

"What do you think we should try next?"

He took a moment to think, "Hmmm… The mana wyrms have been our best attempts so far, but they're small so aren't able to keep us satisfied for long. The wretched contain a good amount of energy, but it's too volatile, too fel. The other animals we've tried so far have been much cleaner sources of energy, but they didn't contain much in the way of actual arcane sustenance. Maybe it would be more worthwhile if we tried some bigger animals with more energy to spare, but I'm still not sure if basic creatures have enough actual magic in them to be worth bothering with..."

"So we want something bigger than a mana wyrm that's still got a good concentration of arcane energy, but doesn't have anything demonic about it."

"I'd say so, yes. Thoughts?"

"A dragonhawk?"

"I'm not sure how much magic they have in them, but it could be worth investigating."

"An Arcane Guardian?"

"Now that would no doubt be a fine catch! But I'm not sure we could get our claws into one of those without being killed or imprisoned."

"How about we seduce attractive young mages into a secret lair and have our wicked way with them?" she joked.

"A tantalising idea, if a little naughty," he laughed, kissing the top of her head. "Is this your way of saying I no longer satisfy you, my dear? You wish to have other hearts to play with?"

"You wound me, my love!" She sat up in mock distress and gave his torso a feeble push, and then they shared amused, knowing smiles. She leaned in to kiss along the base of his ear. "Were we to abandon ourselves to the mercy of our more base needs, I would of course want you there exploring that new avenue right beside me," she whispered in a low voice, grazing her lips against his ear as she did so.

He exhaled sharply, and reached up to run a thumb along her bottom lip. It seemed she had stumbled onto an idea that appealed to him. "Would that please you my love?" she continued, nudging his ear with her nose. "We could find some pretty young thing and have our way with her. I'm picturing an innocent, inexperienced little thing on her back on your bed." She began to stroke a hand along his inner thigh as his breathing deepened. "I could sit behind her, twisting her head round to taste her soft lips and leaving her body entirely at your mercy. We could teach her so many new things, and she would always be eager to return to our bed when required, of course." As her hand continued up, she could feel that he had become rock solid despite their earlier exertions. This line of thought certainly merited following. "And then, who knows? Maybe we can indulge in small tastes of her magic here and there, when she is too otherwise preoccupied to notice or care. Magic is so inherent in our people, I'm sure even a small drop of it could go a long way."

He turned and leaned in for a hungry kiss then, and she eagerly tilted her face up to receive him as his arms wrapped tightly around her. For a long sweet moment she was lost in him, and lost in visions of this exciting new venture they could embark on if they were able to find a suitable candidate. The world was theirs, and they would play by nobody's rules but their own. They would survive.

As the kiss went on, she thought she was beginning to feel a slight lightness behind her eyes, which steadily began to creep into a definite dizziness. Concerned, she tried to pull back to steady herself a little, but Tyranthis moved with her and held her to him, unwilling to relinquish the moment. She began to press gently against his chest to signal her desire to be released, but he seemed to take no notice. Her ears were starting to thrum disorientingly and so she pulled back more forcefully only to feel Tyranthis' grip become iron and unyielding.

He began making soft moans as he continued to kiss her, which almost seemed to trail off into faint chuckles. As he began to tremble the horrifying realisation crashed through her, and she began beating at his chest with her fists and pushing against his face with her hands, desperately trying to break free. Finally managing to land a substantial punch against the side of his jaw she managed to break out of the kiss, but before she could scramble away his hands were around her throat and pushing her down, smashing the back of her head into the stone bench.

As he held her there, choking her and absorbing the life from her, she could see his eyes glowing a vivid green and shining with a wild joy she had never seen before. Her vision beginning to fade, she clawed desperately at his arms and kicked out blindly with her legs. A knee was able to connect with his groin, and as he released her to clutch at the injured area she shoved him hard onto his back on the ground. Leaping onto him before he could recuperate, she straddled him and placed a hand purposefully on either side of his face.

Furious she said, "I'll have that back now."

And then she began drawing energy back from him. The light headedness vanished instantly, and she was instead granted a sharp focus that allowed her to enjoy the sheer ecstasy of the moment with perfect clarity. As the trembling built up within her, she was filled with a warmth, a pleasure that she had never known before.

Still straddling him, she scooped him up in her arms and held him close to her, burying her face in his neck. She was trembling, and laughing, and tears were pouring down her face as she continued to fill herself to the brim with this divine rush of life.

And then all too soon the warm glow within her began to fade, and she came down from the incredible high, shuddering as the residual waves ebbed away.

Slowly, she became aware that Tyranthis' arms were hanging loosely by his sides, and that the skin of his neck against her face felt rough and leathery. Startled, she released his torso and his shrivelled body fell to the ground noiselessly.

Barely even breathing, she looked down at what she had done.


	4. Chapter 4

_I have killed_ _him_ _._

This thought had the potential to change Venara's world, should she let it. Almost as much as the next that surfaced in her mind.

 _He_ _tried to kill me!_

She examined her lover's new form with a strange curiosity. The scratches she had made on his arms had widened and become more hideous as the flesh there had become desiccated and warped. All in all, he looked as though he had been destroyed by some vile creature.

 _And I am that creature._

She raised her hand and examined her nails carefully. She moved to view her reflection in the still calm waters of the lake beside her, and brought a hand to her neck as she noticed the angry red marks where Tyranthis had attempted to deprive her of air.

 _The last marks he shall ever leave there._

Strangely calm, she rose to her feet and rolled Tyranthis' remains into the lake with the tip of her boot, the weight of his current form offering little resistance. The lake claimed the body with a brief splash that made the fish scatter, but it was not long before the ripples became still and the fish began weaving aimlessly through the water once more, the tranquillity of the scene betraying the true nature of what had just occurred. Walking over to the bench they had always sat at together, where they had shared their last kiss, she settled herself on the cool marble, stroking along its edges with her fingers.

She sat and wondered why her world was not changing as it should. She was fortunate to be sitting here alive, and regardless of the circumstances she was the cause of Tyranthis' death; one whom she had thought she loved deeply.

Gazing across the waters, she attempted to find the root of her calmness. It did not then take her long to realise that her insides were no longer heaving with that deep hunger. It was not merely sated, it felt gone completely. For the first time since the destruction of the Sunwell, she felt completely free of its influence. Tyranthis' potent arcane energy had given her that. She tried to fathom how she should react to all this, but struggled to evoke anything but a deep contentment that her body and mind felt under control once again.

That night, as she lay in her bed alone, she slept with a smile on her face. For the first time since the Sunwell's destruction, and on the eve of her first kill, Venara slept peacefully.


	5. Chapter 5

Venara woke slowly, feeling exceedingly well rested. She uncurled and stretched out her legs, arching her back slightly. Pushing her hair off her face, she lay staring at the ceiling for a while, allowing her mind to wander.

She began organising the day's outfit in her mind's eye. Perhaps she would wear her hair up in an elegant bun, with a few well-placed tendrils of hair left loose to frame her face. That would leave her neck exposed, which she could use as an opportunity to show off one of her more intricate neckpieces; perhaps the bejewelled golden collar that Tyranthis had gifted her. He had been well pleased with the previous day's outfit, and so she didn't want to disappoint him today.

She smiled as she remembered their spontaneous lovemaking against the door and their deliciously intriguing conversation on the bench, as she remembered…

Eyes widening she sat bolt upright.

 _No…_

As she remembered everything.

 _No!_

She had killed him. With her own hands she had killed the light of her life, killed the one person who…

She raised her shaking hands then, staring at them in horror. She made them clench, digging the nails into her palms.

She remembered everything. How she had begun draining him, how it had felt so good. Too good to even think about stopping, to even think about the consequences.

 _No, no, no!_

She struck both fists against her forehead, keeping them pressed against her skull as her breathing started to falter.

She was no better than the shambling wretched. For all her certainty that they had known what they were doing, that they could manage their addictions on their own terms, she clearly had less control over herself than she had thought. And the price of that mistake, this lesson, had been Tyranthis.

Even through her panicked revulsion, she could feel the stillness inside her of a soul no longer crying out for magic. Tyranthis' magic, his very life, must still be within her, nourishing her. She felt sickened. If she thought there was a chance that she could purge it all from her body by sticking her fingers down her throat, she would have done it in a heartbeat. But the arcane didn't work like that, she knew. And even if it did, it wouldn't bring him back. It wouldn't do anything for the shrivelled body lying at the bottom of the lake by their bench.

 _What have I done?_

Tears began to fall then. Tears of grief and guilt, and tears of anger. None of this would have happened if he hadn't tried to drain her energy in the first place. If he hadn't hurt her. She brought her hands down to rub at her neck, which still felt tender under the pressure. Why had he done that?

She had to believe that he'd only meant to take a little before getting as caught up in the sensation as she had. She had to believe that he hadn't really wanted to kill her. To think otherwise would be to dispute that he had loved her at all, and there were limits to how many unpleasant revelations she could take before she broke completely.

But even then, why had he tried something so reckless, so dangerous without asking her. Without even warning her. Was it all her fault for mentioning the idea at all? Had she goaded him into it by painting too enticing a picture?

She brought her knees up to her chest and curled up into a tight ball, continuing to sob. Whoever's fault it was, she wished she hadn't fought back. She wished that she was the one lying shrivelled at the bottom of the lake.


End file.
